When I'm with you I think I know what's going on <br />I feel comfortable, secure, like I've been here before <br />Then disinteresting, like watching grass grow on the lawn <br />We interview each other about life, philosophy, and more <br /> <br />I learn and hear and sometimes actually listen <br />But I feel so unexcited, which has seldom been the case <br />Usually I want all to know and hear and watch me glisten <br />with pure joy and bliss, but looking into your face <br /> <br />None of that is present, it feels inevitably doomed <br />and though I thought it'd be easy, I guess I'm not so sure <br />I can't bear the thought of hurting you with what I've assumed <br />But I can't find my way around that as you continue to lure <br /> <br />So where should I stop in what you will eventually call <br />'leading you on? ' I can read what you want or so I'd like to think <br />I don't even know if what I'm saying is true yet at all <br />but ever so slowly, your hope in me, my hope in us, continues to sink<br /><br />Andrew Jones<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sink-3/
